Page 10 of Hitched to my Boss (Viva Las… Oh, Sh!t #2)

NATALIA

I stare at my reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror, trying to process the fact that I'm now Mrs. Jason Wallace.

The woman looking back at me has sex hair, a hangover, and a wedding ring she doesn't remember getting. She's also agreed to maintain an accidental marriage with a client, which violates every professional standard she's spent ten years building her career on.

What the hell was I thinking?

The hot water from the shower helped clear some of the fog from last night, but it couldn't wash away the memory of waking up in Jason's arms. The way his body felt against mine was solid and warm and right in a way that terrified me.

The heat in his eyes when he looked at me, like he was seeing something precious he'd never expected to find.

And now I've agreed to stay married to him. At least temporarily.

I splash cold water on my face, trying to shock some sense into myself. This is supposed to be damage control. A temporary solution to help Jason secure the contract he needs while I figure out how to salvage my professional reputation from this disaster.

So why does the weight of the ring on my finger feel significant instead of just problematic?

"Focus, Natalia," I mutter to my reflection. "You have a breakfast meeting to get through."

I pry open the door to grab my suitcase that Jason grabbed while I was showering.

His thoughtfulness isn’t lost on me. I dig through it for something appropriate to wear as Jason's new wife, meeting with a potential client.

It needs to say successful professional woman, not desperate consultant trying to salvage a career-ending mistake.

The burgundy dress with a matching blazer strikes the right note of business casual elegance.

As I'm applying makeup to hide the evidence of last night's excess, Jason's voice drifts through the bathroom door. He's on the phone with someone, his tone careful and controlled.

"No, Jude, I can't explain it right now. Yes, we're actually married. No, it wasn't planned."

A pause.

"Because sometimes things happen that you can't predict or control, and you have to decide whether you're going to adapt or let them destroy everything you've worked for."

Another pause, longer this time.

"I'll call you later. Right now, I have a breakfast meeting with the client who thinks my new wife is proof that I'm stable and reliable."

I hear him hang up and immediately dial another number.

"Zennika? Before you say anything, let me explain." His voice drops to a barely audible tone. "Yes, I married Natalia. No, I can't remember proposing. Yes, it's complicated. No, I'm not having a breakdown."

Even through the door, I can hear a woman's voice responding in rapid-fire questions that make Jason wince.

"We're handling it," he says firmly. "We're both adults, and we're figuring it out as we go. I'll call you tonight with more details."

The conversation ends, and silence falls in the next room. I emerge from the bathroom to find Jason sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed in a fresh suit, staring at his phone like it might explode.

"Family pressure?" I ask, sitting beside him to put on my heels.

"Jude thinks I've lost my mind. Zennika wants to fly to Vegas immediately to stage an intervention." He looks at me, taking in my appearance with an appreciation that makes my skin warm. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." The compliment feels more significant than it should, coming from my husband. "Are you ready for this?"

"Define ready."

I reach for his hand, noting how natural the gesture feels despite the surreal circumstances. "Ready means we walk into that restaurant as a married couple who are happy, committed, and completely normal. No matter what questions Hartwell asks or what assumptions he makes."

"And if he asks how we met? How long we've been together? Why we decided to get married in Vegas?"

"Then we tell him a version of the truth that supports the narrative we need." I stand, pulling him up with me. "We met through your business. We've been working closely together and realized we had strong feelings for each other. Vegas was spontaneous but felt right."

"That's not entirely false."

"The best cover stories are mostly truth." I smooth the lapels of his suit jacket, trying to ignore how the gesture feels like something a real wife would do. "The key is believing it ourselves."

"And after breakfast? After we sign the contract and Hartwell goes back to his ranch convinced that his new contractor is a stable family man?"

I pause in the middle of checking my purse, struck by the realization that we haven't actually discussed the practical aspects of maintaining this arrangement. "We figure out how to make this work, day to day, without destroying either of our careers."

"Which means?"

"Which means we establish some ground rules." I turn to face him fully. "Professional boundaries, living arrangements, how long we maintain this arrangement, what happens when it ends."

Jason's jaw tightens slightly. "You're already planning the exit strategy."

"I'm being practical. Jason, we barely know each other, and we just made a decision that affects both our professional reputations. We need parameters."

"Right. Parameters." He moves toward the door, and I can see him retreating behind familiar walls. "Wouldn't want this to get too complicated."

"It's already complicated." I follow him, noting the tension that's suddenly appeared in his shoulders. "I'm trying to make sure we both survive the complications."

We ride the elevator to the restaurant in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts about what we're about to attempt.

I can feel Jason's frustration with my need to establish boundaries, but I can't help it.

Boundaries are what keep me sane, what keep me professional, what keep me from making emotional decisions that destroy everything I've worked for.

Like accidentally marrying a client in Vegas.

The restaurant is elegant but not ostentatious, exactly the kind of place where successful ranchers conduct business over eggs Benedict and perfectly brewed coffee.

Hartwell is waiting at a corner table, rising to greet us with the kind of genuine warmth that makes it clear he's genuinely happy about our marriage.

"There they are!" He embraces me carefully, then claps Jason on the shoulder with enough force to stagger a smaller man. "The happy couple! You both look wonderful, considering the celebration last night."

Jason's hand finds the small of my back, a gesture that feels natural enough to convince anyone watching that we're genuinely together. "Thank you for accommodating our somewhat unconventional timeline."

"Unconventional?" Hartwell laughs, pulling out my chair before Jason can. "Son, I've been married for thirty-seven years. Started as a Vegas elopement just like yours. Sometimes you know what you want when you see it."

"That's exactly how it felt," I say, accepting the role I need to play. "When you find the right person, timing becomes irrelevant."

"Smart woman," Hartwell approves, settling into his own chair. "Jason, you're a lucky man."

"I know," Jason replies, and something in his voice makes me look at him more closely. There's no performance in his tone, no careful calculation. Just simple truth that catches me off guard.

The server appears to take our orders, giving me a moment to compose myself. This is a business breakfast with a client. The fact that my fake husband is looking at me like I'm something precious he's afraid to lose is irrelevant to the professional objectives we need to achieve.

"So," Hartwell says once the server leaves, "let's talk about the wolf situation. I have to say, after meeting you both last night, I'm even more convinced that you're the right person for this project."

Jason shifts into professional mode, the transformation immediate and impressive. "I'd like to start with a comprehensive site assessment. Understanding the pack's current territory, their hunting patterns, what's driving them to target your livestock specifically."

"How long would that take?"

"Two weeks minimum for proper observation. Potentially longer if the situation is more complex than your initial reports suggest." Jason leans forward slightly, his expertise evident in every word. "The key is identifying the root cause rather than just addressing the symptoms."

"And your approach would be non-lethal relocation?"

"Only if relocation addresses the underlying problem.

If we're dealing with habitat loss or prey population decline, moving them might just transfer the issue to someone else's land.

" Jason's passion for his work illuminates his entire expression.

"I prefer solutions that work for everyone involved. "

Hartwell nods approvingly. "That's exactly the kind of thinking I need. Too many contractors come in with one-size-fits-all approaches that don't account for the specific dynamics of each situation."

"Jason's strength is his ability to analyze complex variables and develop customized solutions," I interject, playing my role as supportive spouse while highlighting his expertise. "He approaches every project like a puzzle that needs to be solved rather than a problem that needs to be eliminated."

"A good trait in wildlife management," Hartwell observes. "And in marriage, I'd imagine."

The comment sends heat up my neck, but Jason handles it smoothly. "Natalia keeps me grounded. Makes sure I don't disappear into the mountains and forget that effective solutions require effective communication."

"Balance," Hartwell agrees. "Essential in business and personal relationships." He turns to me with interest. "And what's your background, Natalia? Jason mentioned you work in marketing?"